


May the Best Gingerbread Man Win

by ixiepixie



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Fluff, Holidays, M/M, USUK Secret Santa, usuknetwork
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 04:14:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17237216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ixiepixie/pseuds/ixiepixie
Summary: An unexpected visitor comes to Alfred's door as he prepares for a gingerbread contest.





	May the Best Gingerbread Man Win

**Author's Note:**

> For fvck-amx on tumblr.

“Come oooon dad! I wanna play hide and seek!”

That simple sentence, while harmless enough, had been whined out by Annie Oakley Jones, daughter of Alfred F Jones. Said father was currently in the kitchen of their little apartment, cooking up a batch of gingerbread cookies. Christmas carols could be heard coming from the tv, probably a commercial, and a little tree sat in the only empty corner of the small space. It wasn't long before the stomping of tiny feet drowned out the music, slowly making their way to the kitchen. Soon enough, there was a girl of 5 standing next to the oven, hands on her hips.

“Daddy, you promised! You came home from work, so now you play with me!”

Alfred looked to his little angel, eyes tired but his lips were smiling. There was no getting past her, she was so smart.

“I did, didn't I, baby cakes? Let me just finish up this batch, then we can play.” He wiped his forehead, getting some flour streaked across it.

The sight had Annie giggling, poking her father's leg. “You made a mess, Daddy!”

Taking a look around the kitchen, Alfred could see that she was 100% correct about that. He had made a mess, but this was all for a good cause. The annual city gingerbread house contest was coming up fast, and Alfred had somehow managed to make it to the final round. Of course, he couldn't count on his victory yet. Old lady Kirkland from Santa Claus Lane, may she rest in peace, had been Alfred's stiffest competition. Yet even after her passing, someone new had come into town. Arthur Kirkland, her grandson, was pushy, conceited, a jerk, and dangit, he knew her recipes.

With a family tradition of winning, it was obvious that the whole city favored Kirkland as the likely winner. At all the rounds so far, the man had acted as if he had been born to win, and every time Alfred had tried to speak to him, the jerk had run off with some lame excuse! Talk about rude!

Well there was no way Al was letting that guy win, not this year, nor any other year. He was going to win it for his little Annie, and spend the prize money on the Christmas gifts she deserves. Speaking of Annie, the child was currently giving her father ‘the look’. Alfred chuckled, knowing that she gets that look from her mother. He'd have to mention that to her when Annie went back after the holidays.

“Daaaaad...” Annie pouted, her bottom lip sticking out. “How much longer?”

Ruffling her hair, Alfred grinned at his sweet child. “Just a little longer, okay sweetie? Why don't you go pick up your toys, then once you finish, I should be done cleaning up the kitchen too.”

Giving him a look of skepticism, Annie eventually let out an over exaggerated sigh, throwing her arms up dramatically as she walked back to the other side of the room to do as she was asked. Theatrics aside, she was a good listener most times, and usually didn't need to be told twice. Such a good girl.

It took a little longer than he expected, but Alfred soon had the kitchen cleaned and was ready to play with his little girl. Too bad she was fast asleep on the couch, holding her oldest doll close. Alfred sighed, disappointed in himself for not paying attention to Annie when the holidays were just around the corner. Maybe this contest wasn't worth it.

Picking Annie up, he carefully took her to his room and tucked her in on the bed. Alfred whispered to her, smiling sadly. “Sweet dreams, my angel. Tomorrow I'll play with you, I promise.”

A knock at the front door had Alfred leaving the bedroom, shutting the door behind himself quietly so he wouldn't disturb the slumbering child within. Another knock had him wondering just who it was visiting at this hour of night. Sure, it wasn't late late, but it was late enough to be suspicious. Baseball bat in hand, Al glanced out the peephole of his door, ready to chase off any bums or druggies, but there was no need. Familiar, and infuriating, green eyes were all that met his vision.

Cautiously, Alfred opened his door a crack and peeked out at his new rival. How had he even found this place? They had never exchanged addresses.

“Kirkland..? What are you doing here?” Alfred questioned, keeping the baseball bat behind his back. Just in case.

The shorter, sandy blond man coughed. “Ah, I was just... in the neighborhood?”

Brow raised skeptically, Al internally debated on just slamming the door in Arthur's face. “How did you even get my address? And that doesn't explain why you're here at all. Unless it's to gloat about your ‘upcoming victory’, because I'm not interested in hearing about it.”

“No, no, I-I didn't come here to talk about the contest... I just, ah, figured we could... go out for a drink perhaps? Friendly conversation and all that.” The tips of Arthur's ears were pink, as were his cheeks, which struck Alfred as odd.

Was he being asked out by his new rival? Perhaps to get Alfred drunk so he'd spill all his baking secrets? No way!

“Get lost, Kirkland, if you're here to undermine me and ruin my chances in the contest, then you can-”

“This isn't about the bloody contest! I'm just trying to ask you out for drinks, you dolt! Like a d-date! Gods, you Americans...” Arthur began muttering curses under his breath.

Now Alfred wasn't stupid, even if he could be dense at times, but right now he was picking up some weird vibes from Kirkland. If this was a date, why now? Why didn't he ask at the contest after parties instead of acting like a jerk? There were so many questions left unanswered in Alfred's mind, that he was beginning to get a headache.

“So let me get this straight-”

“There's nothing ‘straight’ about this.”

“Ha ha, funny. So you're tellin me you want to take me out on a date tonight?”

Arthur's flustered face was all the answer Alfred needed, even as the Brit was speaking. “Well, yes, that is why I came out to this godforsaken part of town.”

“I'm going to ignore that last comment. Anyway...” Alfred sighed, glancing back inside his own home, “I can't go out with you...”

It was obvious from Arthur's expression that he was about to lash out at Alfred and laugh the whole thing off after being rejected, so Alfred spoke again before he could.

“My little girl is only five and she's already in bed. I can't leave her alone, and it's too late to call a sitter. So... maybe we can go out tomorrow morning? Coffee shop near the contest hall?” Alfred looked at Arthur with a shy smile, “I wouldn't mind your company, but only if you don't mind that my little Annie tags along.”

This new information seemed to take Arthur by surprise, as he wasn't responding. There was a long pause before he spoke at all. “You... have a child?”

“Annie, yeah, my baby angel. Before you ask, yes I'm divorced, and I'll spare you the story of high school sweethearts that discovered their inner rainbows. At least until we have drinks in our hands in the morning.”

Feeling more at ease with the situation, Alfred stepped through the door just enough to offer his phone. “Your number?”

“Oh! Oh, yes, right.” Arthur scrambled to get his own phone out of his pocket and into Alfred's hand so they could trade numbers.

A little hesitant as a thought occurred to him, Alfred quietly asked. “Me having a kid isn't a deal breaker, right..?”

Arthur caressed Alfred's still flour caked hands with his own as he returned the cell phone. “I wouldn't still be at your door if it was, love.”

“Pet names already? You move fast.”

“Call me anything embarrassing, and I'll be sure to sabotage your icing.”

“Aww, thanks sugar pop, glad to know you're not above subterfuge to win.”

It took only a moment before they were both laughing, standing there in the apartment building hallway. Arthur looked beautiful when he was smiling, it was a nice change. Maybe this could work out. 

“I'll see you bright and early then, Jones.” Arthur teased, using Alfred's last name again as if they hadn't just agreed to a date.

Al smirked, leaning on the doorframe. “Nine O'clock it is, gotcha. Hope that's early enough, I gotta get Annie bathed and dressed and figure out how the hell to braid hair again-”

“I can't wait to meet her then, and I expect perfect braids in her hair, just like the braided lights on your entry last year.”

“You saw that?”

“Grandmother gushed about you constantly.” Arthur admitted, “And now... I can see why. A loving father and a talented baker. Quite the catch, as she always hinted to me.”

“Well I gotta hand it to her,” Alfred leaned in close, “She passed down some good looks.”

Oh yeah, Alfred could get used to this. Flirting was so much easier than fighting, and seeing Arthur's red face daily was going to be a real treat.

Clearing his throat, Arthur offered Alfred his hand. “About the contest, I want to wish you good luck. May the best man win.”

“I think you mean, may the best GINGERBREAD man win.”

“I plan to.”

“There's that gloating I was waiting for.”


End file.
